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“Hey,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.
“I woke you.”
“Don’t hang up.”
The line remained quiet for a moment. Ford could hear a door close on Cole’s end, followed by the soft scrape of a bag hitting the floor. They had reached the hotel.
“How do you feel?” Cole asked.
Ford shifted carefully beneath the blanket. The pain was still contained to a deep, steady ache. “Sore. Tired. The medication’s working.”
“Where’s Nadine?”
“Upstairs in the spare room. She left the walker close enough that I can’t pretend I don’t need it.”
Cole exhaled. He sounded as tired as Ford felt. “Did you eat anything?”
“Soup. Half a piece of toast. I wasn’t hungry, but she insisted I eat something.”
“Good.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am.” Cole’s voice softened. “That’s why I’m glad she’s there.”
Ford tried to put the road schedule back in order, but the medication had left the days sliding into one another. “You’re home tomorrow, right?”
“Late tomorrow night. We play, get on the bus, and come straight back.”
Another night sounded longer now that Ford had heard his voice. “Okay.”
“I’ll check on you in the morning before we head to the rink.”
“You don’t have to keep checking.”
“I know.” Cole didn’t turn it into an argument. “I’m going to anyway.”
Ford closed his eyes again. The phone was warm against his cheek, and Cole’s breathing filled the dark room.
“Get some sleep,” Cole said. “I’ll call in the morning. Then one more game, and I’m coming home.”
Ford tightened his hold on the phone. “I’ll be waiting.”
TWENTY-FIVE
The puck hit the outside of the post with three seconds left, and the season ended before Cole could reach the rebound. Rockford’s bench emptied. Red gloves and helmets covered the ice while the Stags remained where the final horn had caught them.
Cole bent over his stick and fought for enough air to stand upright. Across the zone, Halsey stayed in his crease. He had stopped everything in the third period and given them a chance to force overtime. Now the handshake line was forming at center ice while Rockford celebrated behind him.
By the time Cole reached the tunnel, Ford was waiting against the wall with a cane at his side. Surgery had kept him away through the final stretch of the regular season, but he had returned to the rink once he could manage the trip. He’d been cleared to walk without support. The cold still stiffened his hip enough that he brought the cane to games.
Half the team was still coming off the ice when Cole crossed the hallway. Ford straightened as Cole approached and reached for him before Cole had fully stopped.
Ford caught the front of Cole’s jersey and pulled him close enough that their foreheads met. “You all right?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
